


In Your Grasp

by mechanicalUniverses



Series: RvB Fluff Week [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, RvB Fluff Week, prompt, simmons is just anxious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 14:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalUniverses/pseuds/mechanicalUniverses
Summary: He’s here, right here, don’t let him go again—





	In Your Grasp

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! this is my final thing for rvb fluff week :^) i forgot to post it here, but it's already on [tumblr](https://scintillating-galaxias.tumblr.com/post/172488992402/grimmons-my-number-one-love-i-love-these) if you want to check it out there! i hope everyone had fun during this lovely event!
> 
> enjoy~

The second Simmons gets the news that Grif’s team has returned, he’s leaping off of his cot and throwing his tablet to the side, faltering for a few seconds when it slides dangerously close to the edge of his mattress, and then he’s sprinting to the landing pads. He’s sweating and panting and red-faced, and his hair is probably resembling the nest of some mutant bird, and he could not care less. Grif is _right there_ and he isn’t limping, or being held up by someone, or holding his guts in, or being taken away on a stretcher. He’s whole and alive and that was more than anything Simmons could have asked for.

Simmons starts pushing his way through the small crowd that has already formed. He nearly bowls over Palomo, runs directly into no less than six different recruits, steps on Doctor Grey’s foot and spends a full minute apologizing profusely, and earns himself at least a dozen annoyed looks when he finally stumbles free. Not once do his eyes leave Grif.

_He’s here, right here, don’t let him go again—_

Grif spots him as he’s making his crazed beeline towards him. He takes off his helmet, blinking in the bright floodlights. Simmons’ eyes rove over him for just a brief moment; the round, cow-patch face, the slight scruff on his chin, his forest-floor eyes, unmistakeable messy, dark hair. This was him. This was Grif.

“Hey,” Grif said once Simmons was in earshot. Simmons does not stop walking. Grif’s lazy smile flickers slightly into a faint expression of concern. “Dude, what’s wr—Oof!”

Simmons flings his arms around Grif’s neck, drawing a strangled choking sound out of him. Once he makes sure he’s not suffocating him on his pauldron, Simmons pulls him in a little tighter. It’s uncomfortable with their bulky armor, but he really doesn’t give a fuck. Grif is back. He left, but he came back.

“I missed you,” Simmons mumbled in Grif’s neck. The heat of embarrassment from causing a scene is starting to claw his way up his stomach. He suppresses it in order to reserve this moment.

“Damn, Simms,” Grif chuckled a little awkwardly. “It wasn’t _that_ hard of a mission.”

“I know, I know, I just—” Simmons draws in a deep breath and releases as a hard, relieved sigh. He finally unwraps himself from Grif, who looks as dazed as Simmons feels. Or maybe a bit less so, because that stubborn asshole doesn’t like wearing his emotions on his face for some stupid reason.

“I’m just glad you’re back.”

Grif stares at him. Then he snorts and ducks his head, taking one of Simmons’ hands and carefully threading his fingers through them.

“Why’re you so fucking melodramatic?” he muttered. Simmons doesn’t miss the slight squeeze to his fingers as Grif speaks.

Simmons shrugs. “Why are you such much of an asshole?” he asked, squeezing back just as lightly.

They catch each other’s eye and burst out into loud laughter, effectively causing the others around them to give them a funny look and distracting Kimball out of debriefing a groaning Tucker. She swings around, annoyed at first, but one glance at their entwined hands and she simply nods and turns back to finish with Tucker without a single word.

“Wanna go ‘debrief?’” Grif asked once they gained control of themselves, waggling his thick eyebrows.

Simmons snorts and pushes at Grif’s shoulder rather fruitlessly. “Take a shower first, then we’ll talk.”

“Yeah, I’m beat anyw—Wait, what?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked, moment of bravado gone. “What happened on the mission?”

“Oh my fucking God, you aren’t gonna believe this shit…”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you'd like to come chat with me, feel free to hit me up on the rvb discord or message me on [tumblr](https://scintillating-galaxias.tumblr.com) to send me more ideas :0 i'd always like some visitors!
> 
> p.s. i may be updating my other series soon :0 i haven't been doing so very much 'cause i sort of... forgot about it. i'm sorry hjdhsjf


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